Dark Light (11 page)

Andy came to a halt on the dance floor, the blonde cuddled in one arm. “Wouldn't be right if we didn't follow hunter tradition.”

Alarm galvanized Sierra. Hunters were very big on tradition, and a lot of those old traditions—dueling, came to mind—were appallingly macho and lamentably archaic. Any hunter tradition dealing with wedding nights could not be good.

“No, that's okay,” she said hastily. She raised her free hand in a warding-off gesture. “This is just an MC.”

She could have sworn she saw Fontana's jaw twitch.

Jeff leered. “Nobody ever said MCs weren't real weddings.” He turned to the crowd. “What do you say, folks? Did the wedding look real to you?”

There was a roar of agreement from the crowd.

“That settles it,” Simon announced. “It was a real wedding, all legal and everything. That means we gotta follow tradition. Stand aside, Sierra.”

“Why?” she asked, deeply suspicious.

“Just do what the man says,” Fontana advised.

Gently he pushed her away from him. She gave ground grudgingly. He took a couple of paces back, putting even more distance between them.

She felt a faint buzz of energy first. A few seconds later there was enough psi swirling in the room to give her goose bumps. Elvis wriggled in the crook of her arm and made excited little sounds.

Four hot balls of ghost fire swirled into existence, each about a foot across. The audience gasped. A low murmur went through the crowd.

“Set fire to my newsroom, and I'll sue the Guild,” Runtley warned.

Andy chuckled. “Don't worry, we've got things under control here. This is a test for Fontana.”

Deftly manipulated by Jeff, Simon, Andy, and Mitch, the ghosts lined up in a row between Fontana and Sierra.

A fifth ball of energy flared and took its place directly in front of Sierra. Involuntarily, she took another quick step back. She was no expert, but it was obvious that the new ghost was hotter and more tightly wound than the others.

“I'm the best man,” Ray said. “Wouldn't be right if I didn't help with the send-off.”

“Oh, damn,” Sierra said.

Fontana leaned one shoulder against the wall, folded his arms, and contemplated the ghosts as though they were novel inventions he'd never seen before in his life.

“This is for you, Sierra,” Jeff explained earnestly. “The boss is going to show that he's worthy of you.”

“The only way he gets you is if he gets through our ghosts first,” Simon said.

Kay giggled. There was a lot more muffled laughter in the room, mostly from the women.

This was not about proving anything to the bride, Sierra thought. It was about generating a lot of ghost heat. It was common knowledge in certain quarters—hair salons and ladies' restrooms, for instance—that hunters got sexually aroused after working ghost light. It had something to do with the testosterone-heavy, bio-psi hormones that flooded their systems when they used their talents.

The rumors about their sexual prowess when they were in the midst of a post-ghost burn were not unfounded, according to women who had dated Guild men. There was a reason why the taverns and bars that catered to hunters in the Quarter were also popular with college women on spring break and bachelorette parties.

There was an old hunter saying—one of many—to the effect that it took a ghost to kill a ghost. The hunters expected Fontana to destroy their ghosts by rezzing one of his own and using it to neutralize the flaring balls of green fire that stood between him and Sierra.

“No offense,” Sierra said, striving to project firm authority, “but you've all had a little too much to drink tonight. I really don't think any of you should be working ghost light in a confined space.”

They ignored her, watching Fontana for his reaction.

“What do you say, boss?” Andy asked. “Is Sierra worth working your way through five ghosts?”

Fontana looked at her over the tops of the ghosts that bobbed between them.

“Oh, yes,” he said, nerve-shatteringly serious. “She's worth it.”

The controlled heat in his eyes was hotter than the UDEMs in front of her. She went still, aware of his desire on both the normal and the paranormal plane. She had sensed some of this masculine energy earlier today in his office, but now it was as if he had just lowered a barrier and let her see the full strength of it.

Once again the hair was stirring on the nape of her neck, but her reaction had nothing to do with the flashing, sparking ghosts that separated them. She was responding to Fontana with every fiber of her being. Heat spilled into her veins. She knew then that, whatever his reasons for the marriage, one thing was clear: her short-term husband wanted her.

Heaven help her, she wanted him, too. That was probably not a good thing. At the very least, it was a very dangerous thing.

Fontana did not move, did not even unfold his arms. He watched her with that dark, unnerving intensity that sent thrill after thrill through her.

More energy swirled in the room; not green ghost light this time; something else, something she had never seen before. She heard several startled gasps and murmurs around her.

A churning river of dark, pulsing shadows appeared. A few inches across and a yard long, it flowed and undulated in a curious wave pattern.

Elvis quivered with excitement. He was still fully fluffed, but his second set of eyes winked open. They glowed like warm amber.

Simon, Jeff, Andy, and Mitch were dumbfounded. Everyone else, with the exception of Ray, who was smiling, seemed speechless.

“I'll be damned,” Simon breathed. “That's dark light. The rumors are true.”

“Jeez,” Jeff whispered. “No wonder he was able to take down Jenner in that duel.”

“What the hell is dark light?” Runtley demanded, pushing through the staring onlookers. “Some kind of secret alien technology?”

“No,” Ray said calmly. “It's dissonance energy like ghost light. But it comes from the dark end of the spectrum. Very few hunters can pull it.”

The river of night flowed around one of the four ghosts, forming a whirlpool. The green ghost was sucked into the spinning darkness and disappeared.

One by one the balls of glaring ghost light were drawn into the whirlpool and extinguished. When the last one disappeared, the dark waves of psi evaporated.

Fontana walked straight to Sierra and swept her up in his arms. Elvis bounded up onto his shoulder.

“We'll be leaving now,” Fontana said to the crowd.

The four hunters from the Green Gate sent up a rousing cheer. Everyone else joined in. Someone opened the door.

Fontana carried Sierra out into the hall. The door closed behind them.

Sierra managed to find her voice. “You can put me down now.”

“You're not very heavy.” He went toward the elevator.

“No, wait,” she said. “I don't like elevators. Please.”

He set her on her feet. They started down the stairs.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “What's with that dark light thing? Another mysterious Guild secret?”

Fontana put one hand on her arm to help her keep her balance.

“Let's just say that the Guilds have traditionally preferred to play down the fact that some hunters can work energy from different points on the spectrum.”

“Right,” she said, excitement humming through her. “A red-hot Guild secret. I knew it. You do realize that it will probably show up in the
Curtain
tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

He sounded far too unconcerned.

She shot him another searching look. “But?”

He smiled slowly. “But it will be in the
Curtain
. Who, besides your readers, will believe it? None of the mainstream media will take it seriously.”

She sighed. “You have a point. Runtley will probably give it a headline like ‘Guild Discovers Secret Alien Technology.' ”

Fontana's smile widened. “I'm counting on it.”

They reached the lobby. Fontana pushed open the glass doors and allowed her to move past him into the damp, foggy night.

“There's a reason the Guilds keep their secrets,” he said. “Unusual talents of any kind tend to make people nervous.”

She could not argue with that statement.

“I realize that,” she admitted.

“When the exotic talents in question belong to hunters, the fear factor is multiplied several times over,” he said.

“Okay, I get that. The Guilds have enough public relations problems as it is. I can see why the organizations prefer not to advertise a lot of unusual para-rez talents.”

“I'll let you in on another little secret. The Guild researchers have reluctantly concluded that alien psi can theoretically be pulled from any point along the spectrum of paranormal energy.”

She stopped beside her car and dug out her key. “Why reluctantly?”

He opened the door for her. “Turns out that each band of psi light has its own distinctive properties. But no one has been able to chart the full range of the spectrum, let alone the various properties of all the individual bands.”

“And some are bound to be very dangerous. Is that it?”

“All psi energy is power.”

“And all power is potentially dangerous.”

His brows rose. “Or useful, depending on your point of view. At this point, there are a lot of unknowns. Until we have more answers, the Guilds intend to keep their secrets.”

She slipped into the front seat of the Float. He handed Elvis to her and closed the door. She lowered the window, uncertain what came next. How did you say a casual good night to the man you just married?

“Well, good night,” she said politely.

“I'll follow you back to your apartment,” he said.

“That won't be necessary.”

“Sure it is. You'll want to pack a suitcase.”

She stilled. “I beg your pardon?”

“You're spending the night at my house. I assume you'll need a few things.”

It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere and replaced with pure psi. She felt light-headed.

She managed to rally. “Look here, Fontana, if you think for one minute that fake wedding ceremony gives you any marital rights or that I'm interested in finding out if the rumors about hunters who are in the grip of an afterburn are true, you've got another thought coming.”

He raised his brows slightly. “What rumors would those be?”

“Forget it.” She bristled. “I'm not going there. This is supposed to be a business partnership, remember?”

He rested one hand on the roof of the Float.

She started to get nervous. Her sixth sense wasn't picking up any menacing vibes, but there was some serious energy in the atmosphere, and it wasn't alien psi.

“We're supposed to be married,” he said calmly. “We've got lots of witnesses, thanks to you, and tomorrow morning we're going to be all over the
Curtain
.”

“So? That was the plan.”

“The plan isn't going to work very well if you insist on separate quarters,” he said patiently.

Why hadn't she considered this aspect of the situation a little more closely? Because she had been rushing around madly all day, that was why. Fontana had given her very little time to think. In hindsight, that had probably not been an accident. He had subtly but deliberately taken charge of their relationship. But, then, that's what Guild bosses did. They took command.

“I don't care how it looks in the media,” she said, going for stubborn. “So there's gossip about our relationship? So what? You said the main point was to make certain that everyone knew that I was your wife.”

“I don't give a damn about the gossip. After that incident with the Riders this afternoon, we have to assume that not all of the bad actors are inside the organization.”

Jolted, she stared up at him. “You think those guys who attacked me are somehow connected to the conspiracy?”

“I think we have to assume it's a reasonable possibility. Who else have you managed to piss off lately besides Jenner?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “Not the Riders. I've never done a story on them. The management of Underworld Exploration wasn't too happy when I exposed their shady business ties with the Guild, but they complained the old-fashioned way. Their lawyers threatened to sue the paper. I can't see a big company like that hiring a bunch of low-life gang members to get rid of one measly little tabloid reporter.”

“I think you're in more trouble than you realize. Until we know what's going on, you won't be spending the night alone.”

“Why your place?” she muttered.

“You'll be safer at my house. I installed a state-of-the-art ambertronics security system shortly after I bought it last month. No one can even get on the grounds without triggering the alarms.”

She thought about the strange restlessness that had kept her awake last night. Her intuition had told her that someone was watching. Her intuition was usually right. Maybe the Riders had been stalking her.

She made her decision.

“You're right,” she said, rezzing the Float's little flash-rock engine. “I need to pick up a few things at my place.”

SHE EMERGED FROM THE BEDROOM, AN OVERNIGHT CASE
in her hand, and found Fontana studying the miniature star dressing room on the coffee table. He looked deeply intrigued.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

“An ex-hunter named Jake Tanner built it for Elvis. Poor Jake is a juice addict who lives in an alley a few blocks from here. When he's not in a juice dream, he makes the most amazing miniatures out of discarded items and materials that he scrounges from garbage bins. Elvis's dressing room is his latest masterpiece.”